


How can you sleep in this?

by Johnimholmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnimholmes/pseuds/Johnimholmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is a little bit scared of thunderstorms, of course he would never say that aloud though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How can you sleep in this?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading, this is basically just a short thing I wrote awhile back when I couldn't sleep, I hope you enjoyed!

Another round of thunder rolled, and Sherlock curled up even further. It was past two in the morning, but the storm was getting worse by the minute. Shivering, he felt his cheeks go damp. Barely hitting the keys of his blackberry, he slowly texted his flatmate.

_John, are you awake? SH_

_**God Sherlock I have work tomorrow what is it?** _

Sherlock stared back at his phone contemplating what to type next. His fingers idly skimming across buttons.

_How can you sleep in this? SH_

**_It’s just a storm._ **

Several minutes passed and John slowly started drifting back to sleep. Why was Sherlock texting him anyways? Probably just to annoy him, as he often did. John thought about it a few more moments before it actually clicked. Oh. Sherlock was afraid of storms. John sighed getting out of bed, and threw a pair of plaid pj bottoms on over his boxers before making his way downstairs. He slowly approached the opening, trying his best to be quiet as not to wake Ms.Hudson. John made his way cautiously into the kitchen, and turned on the kettle. No doubt Sherlock would have heard him moving about the flat by now and would more than likely be out momentarily.

John poured the last of the milk into Sherlock’s tea and mixed it along with two cubes of sugar just like the man liked it. Sherlock slowly pushed his door open right on cue  just as John set their tea on a tray bringing it into the sitting room. Sherlock stood in the doorway of his room wearing similar attire, plaid pj bottoms, and a cotton t-shirt, however, he was also ridiculously wrapped in one of his sheets.  John noticed he was also quite pale  and he flinched slightly as lightning flashed in the window and thunder boomed through the flat. Sherlock slumped over to the couch and sat to the side bringing his arms around his legs as he pulled them to his chest. John grabbed the tray with both their cups and made his way into the sitting room giving sherlock his tea and sat an awkward distance apart from him on the sofa.

The two sat in silence taking shy sips of their tea until a rather loud clap of thunder rang through the flat making Sherlock jump almost spilling the remainder of his tea on himself. John smiled softly trying to restrain a giggle and inched in closing the gap between the two so that just a few centimeters were between them. Sherlock previously glaring at John’s almost outbursts noticed the move and hesitantly laid his head on John’s shoulder, a slight blush creeping up his neck. Thunder continued rolling through the flat, the storm seemed to now be reaching it’s peak. John decided to wrap his arms around Sherlock as he buried his face deeper in John’s chest with each clash. As a kid, he was always alone during storms, in a bed way too big for a boy  his age, living in a house thatregardless of Mycroft and their parents presence, always appeared to feel empty. When storms would come the thunder  always echoed through the large house leaving him alone crying in his room. With John though, Sherlock noted, it wasn’t as bad.

John becoming rather accustomed to Sherlock’s jerks and small gasps held him close, a protective fondness spreading through his chest. It was always strange seeing him like this, in his human moments. It was quite a rare thing that John felt only he was allowed to see. He smiled  at the thought of Sherlock reserving only these moments for him and softly kissed the top of Sherlock’s hair

“It’s alright Sherlock just a bit of noise is all” he soothed.

Sherlock lifted his head and glared at John

“Of course it’s noise John I know what thunder is i’m not an idiot, what doesn’t make sense is why it has to be so bloody loud”

John opened his mouth to reply as another loud crack sounded making Sherlock bury his face further back into John. Who laughed running his fingers soothingly down Sherlock’s back. Even when he was scared he was still an arrogant prick.

“I thought you would like storms, ya know being loud and dramatic and all”

“As if!” Sherlock scoffed.

“Oh you’re ridiculous, you and your brother both!”

“ Let’s not compare my brother and I.”

John just grinned.

He looked at his watch and noticed it  was crawling towards four now, he was supposed to get up in three hours. Maybe it would be best to call in for tomorrow, he could afford to skive a day.  Although the storm was now residing, leaving only a slight drizzle washing over the rooftops, Sherlock still laid against John softly breathing and not appearing to be moving anytime soon. John was still for a moment, and contemplated getting up and going back to sleep before he realized Sherlock himself had dozed off. He smiled fondly down at the detective laying  his own head back against the sofa and drifted off himself.

Sharp rays of sunshine peeking through window curtains woke John up. He was startled for a just a moment before remembering the previous nights events. He frowned glancing to his side which was empty except for a slight warmth. Sherlock must have recently gotten up as well. It was good the detective got sleep, even if it wasn’t much, god know’s he needed it. John yawned stretching out his limbs. He sat up rubbing sleep away from his eyes and stretching a bit more. Turns out sleeping on the sofa wasn’t very well for his shoulder and back,  but for Sherlock it seemed to be worth it. The doctor glanced around the flat searching for the detective who was apparently nowhere to be found. He assumed Sherlock would probably be at the least a little embarrassed to be caught at such a weak moment and wouldn’t be around for a little while. So the doctor let out a deep sigh before standing up to make a nice cuppa.

It wasn’t until later in the day that Sherlock burst through the flat in his usual dramatic sense. Oh yeah totally not like a storm at all, John thought as he was sitting at the desk writing up the last case. Sherlock swept by slamming the laptop shut grabbing it and begun going off about a case. John sat back looking at Sherlock now.

“Well are you just going to sit there? Grab your jacket come on John! Three murders, no links!"

“Yes okay, give me a moment”

John was still pretty tired from last nights events, he was use to at least 8 hours of sleep, not 3. However, knowing Sherlock that was probably sleeping in for him, but for John it was the equivalent of a light nap. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and stood up grabbing his coat and walked to the door.

“Come on then, you can tell me more about it on the way”

They left the flat, Sherlock eagerly bouncing behind him and filling him in on details as they walked out of the door. John still exhausted only caught snip its

“No leads yet-”

“- All incompetent buffoons”

“- so simple”

John felt relieved when he heard

“Should only take me two days”

If there was anything John couldn’t handle right now, it would be another long case. They had just finished a two week one three days ago, and John still hadn't caught up on sleep.

Sherlock flagged down a cab and the two climbed in and  heading off to the crime scene. As they rode to the crime scene in silence John had leaned against the window of the cab closing his eyes, maybe just maybe he could- he eyes shot open as he glanced down and noticed Sherlock who had just been glancing out the window himself with his hands in his lap, was now about a foot closer, and his hand had found it’s way across the cab and was on John’s now. He still faced the window, and John swore he saw the light hint of a blush displayed across his face. John smiled and turned his hand over interlocking their fingers. He should have probably said something but there was nothing to be said. He knew Sherlock and he understood exactly what he was saying.

 


End file.
